


Ease My Mind

by wr0ngsideofreality (slothlover42)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, It's rough guys, Past Abuse, Sad, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-02-04 19:39:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18611167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slothlover42/pseuds/wr0ngsideofreality
Summary: Endings always take a toll on the person that started on the journey. Whether the ending is sad or happy, it affects everyone.It's the ones with the happy endings that we love. The ones where everyone lives happily ever because we use those ones to escape from our own reality. The stories take us by the hand and drag us along.There's pain, and there's sadness that accompanies the happily ever after stories. We try to ignore those moments.Though sometimes, it's easier said than done.





	1. Prologue

A journey always has a destination. It always has an end whether we're prepared for it or not. Journeys always end differently depending on the person. Your sister's journey could end in sadness, while your best friends could end in happiness. It could end in a day, or it could end in a few years. There's something a lot of people don't realize about journeys. Where one ends, there's always another waiting around a corner. You just have to go find it.

Journeys, or rather, adventures, end. There's always something else waiting though. Your sister's first journey could end in tears, but the next could be the ending she's been dreaming about since she was a child. Where a breakup is the ending of one journey, marriage can be another.

Endings always take a toll on the person that started on the journey. Whether the ending is sad or happy, it affects everyone.

It's the ones with the happy endings that we love. The ones where everyone lives happily ever because we use those ones to escape from our own reality. The stories take us by the hand and drag us along.

There's pain, and there's sadness that accompanies the happily ever after stories. We try to ignore those moments.

Though sometimes, it's easier said than done.


	2. 1

There's something about watching the droplets of rain run down a window. It's calming. For a second, your mind can be taken from your thoughts to focus solely on the droplet as it rolls down the window.

"Tony?" The flinch that takes his body by surprise is what brings him out of his thoughts. He blinks his eyes rapidly as he focuses back in on the present once more. He flicks his brown eyes to the man sitting across from him.

Anthony looks deep into those eyes and pauses his recently returned, rapid thoughts. The man gives him an apologetic smile.

"You spaced out on me again." He informs Anthony softly. Anthony's eyes turn to the plaque on the desk.

Dr. Jacob Hansen. Anthony tilts his head slightly as his memory works overtime. It's as if a light turns on his head and his eyes track from the nameplate to the owner of the man.

"Therapy." Anthony breathes out. Jacob's apologetic smile turns softer, and Anthony tries to figure out why. Jacob nods and folds his arms on top of the desk that separates the two.

"Yes, do you remember why?" Anthony shifts in his seat, hands neatly kept on his lap. He licks his dry lips and he looks to the desktop. His eyebrows press together and the tension starts to build in his head. He swallows thickly after a moment and then looks back up to Jacob.

"No." Jacob just nods, never losing his smile. Anthony tilts his head again and locks eyes with Jacob. "Is that bad?" Jacob shakes his head and writes a few things down on the pad of paper Anthony didn't notice until just then.

"It's alright that you don't. It's normal with people in your situation." The reply sinks into his head.

"People..." He takes a second, swallowing again. "...in my situation?" He asks, confusion lacing his voice. "I don't understand." Jacob nods, and Anthony wonders if that's really all the man is capable of doing.

"You will. It will take time, but I promise everything will make sense or come back to you in time. Whether it's tomorrow or next week, who knows." Anthony watches as Jacob closes the pad of paper and bends over to put it in what Anthony assumes is a backpack with the sound of a zipper cutting through the room. Jacob checks his watch and stands from his chair, slinging the confirmed backpack over his shoulder. "Walk with me to the front and I'll wait with you until your ride gets here."

Anthony blinks and slowly rises. His brain works overtime trying to figure out what Jacob was talking about.

"Tom." He breathes out as his brain screeches to a halt at the name. "Tom's my ride. He picks me up from here and then we go home." Anthony whispers, following Jacob out of the door and to the stairs.

"Exactly. See? You're doing better already." Anthony's forehead scrunches in confusion. He still doesn't understand what that means. Doing better how? What happened to him?

A jolt of pain shoots him out of his thoughts. He gasps out a breath and he can see Jacob pausing beside him.

"Maybe stairs aren't a good idea today." Anthony shakes his head.

"No, it's fine. The rain just gets to me sometimes." Anthony thinks the reasoning over in his mind for a moment before decided that's a fine enough answer for the pain in his leg. He watches the steps carefully as he takes slow steps down. He can hear Jacob hum as he must be going over the reasoning as well. "That-" Anthony pauses and licks his lips. "That makes sense, right?" They make it to the first floor in a matter of moments.

"It makes perfect sense." Anthony nods and shifts his focus from the dirty tile on the ground to the rain-streaked windows that lie in front of him.

"Anthony!" Anthony doesn't flinch from the sudden yell of his name, and he thinks that's strange. He reacted oddly earlier when Jacob called him-

Oh. He must have some feelings towards the nickname. It stirred something in him, but he wasn't sure what.

The loud footsteps that echo through the building cause Anthony to smile lightly. His eyes land on the new person in his view. The blue hair and striking green eyes click in Anthony's mind. This is Tom. His brain runs again, trying to find all the information on him as possible.

"Hey, I'm-"

"Tom." Anthony interrupts him. They're standing closer together now and Anthony has to look up to meet his eyes. "You're my roommate." Tom barks out a harsh laugh and gathers Anthony in his arms. Tom's hand brushes through Anthony's hair and he can't help the way his nose scrunches up at the movement.

"You remembered." Tom breathes out as he releases Anthony from his grip. He still holds tightly to his arms as he holds him away slightly. "Zara will be happy to hear that!"

"I don't know a Zara." Tom's face doesn't break from the grin.

"That's alright," Tom reassures him. "You're still healing. You won't remember everything all at once and we all understand that." The sound of a zipper breaks Anthony's concentration on the name Zara. He turns to see Jacob pulling a notebook out of his backpack.

"I almost forgot to return this to you." He holds out the book and Anthony's hand twitched at his side. "It's your journal. You've been using it every time you remember something, but recently you gave it back to me." Anthony cocks his head in a questioning manner but reaches out to take the book.

"Why would I do that?" His fingers glide over the cover of the book. There's a sense of familiarity to it that he can't quite place. His attention is almost completely taken from the book that he almost misses the answer that comes from Tom's mouth.

"You got angry. You hated that you couldn't remember anything. You would re-read passages that you had written and I guess you just couldn't handle it." Anthony huffs out a breath and clutches the book a little tighter to him.

"That makes sense." Tom quirks an eyebrow at him. "I mean, doesn't it?" He asks, looking at the other men around him. "Having to go back and read through things that obviously has happened but you can't remember them? It sounds so difficult." Anthony bites his lip and swallows the thick lump in his throat. "I wouldn't really wish that on anyone. I think though since you say I'm getting better, maybe this will help? Maybe the whole going back and re-reading thing will help."

Jacob and Tom share a look that has a pit of dread starting in Anthony's stomach.

"What's wrong?" He asks, voice quiet and filled with worry. Tom shakes his head but sends a reassuring smile Anthony's way.

"We just don't want whatever you'll read to trigger anything. I mean, we want you to remember, really we do. We just don't want it to hurt." Anthony worries his bottom lip and nods. "Let's just get you home and you can worry about it later." After saying a quick goodbye to Jacob, Anthony lets Tom usher him out of the building and into the tiny blue car that waits for them at the edge.

If the woman that stands a few feet away sends a jolt of odd familiarity through Anthony, he doesn't think twice about it.


	3. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My spacebar doesn't work so I apologize for any mistakes that involve words smashed together that shouldn't be smashed together.

Anthony’s eyes make a long, slow trek to the front of the house. He blinks once, then twice. He cocks his head, trying to figure out why the place feels so familiar. The blue door is really what gets his attention the most. It blends nicely with the grey of the rest of the house’s exterior.

“Why is the door blue?” He asks Tom gently, ripping his eyes from the door to his friend. “It seems odd to have a door that color.” Tom smiles at him and Anthony notices the crinkles around his green eyes as he does so.

“It’s your favorite color. After you moved in, we painted to door that color.” Anthony scrunches his forehead. That doesn’t make sense to him. This was Tom’s home. That much he knew so why did he paint it for him?

“But why did you do that? This is your house.” Anthony states, feeling his head start to ache as his brain goes into overdrive. “Yours and Zara’s.” Anthony gasps as that nugget of knowledge flood into his brain. Tom looks him over with careful eyes and Anthony notices he’s put his hands on his shoulders. “But I moved in with you for some reason and you painted it blue because you, what? Wanted me to feel welcome?” Anthony questions, his head starting to pound more as he keeps pushing past the barrier that’s keeping him from remembering. Anthony reaches a hand to his forehead and rubs it lightly. Tom squeezes his shoulders, turns him towards the door, and throws an arm around his shoulders.

“Let’s get you inside and you can write that nugget down.” He says quietly, carefully taking slow steps so that Anthony can keep up. The rain still pours and it starts a heavy, pulsing beat in his leg that forces a heavy limp. He bites his lip from letting any whimpers of pain slip out, but he knows Tom can tell he’s in pain. 

The walk up to the door finally comes to an end and Tom opens the door with one hand whilst still keeping his other wrapped around Anthony’s shoulders.

“Zara! We’re home!” The first steps into the house are unfamiliar to Anthony, and he can’t help but feel a little frustrated over that. He lives here. He should know this place.

“Tom?” Anthony startles a little at the new voice and he looks up from where his attention was captured by the gray carpet. A woman in a blue dress stands there and smiles at Anthony. He sends a shaky smile back. “How was your appointment?” She asks, walking closer to Anthony and Tom.

“Fine,” Anthony whispers out shortly, inadvertently shrinking into himself. The woman doesn’t seem deterred by the action and instead places an arm around Anthony’s other shoulder.

“The rain’s making his leg act up,” Tom informs her. She sends Anthony a sad look and helps Tom walk him to the couch.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asks once Anthony is seated and his leg raised onto the coffee table in front of the worn out couch. Anthony blinks at his leg, then lets his eyes drag up to the television that sits on a wall a few feet in front of the table. HIs eyes linger there. He tilts his head, seeing a reflection of himself is odd. He lifts a slightly shaky left hand and lets it run through unruly hair. Next, it travels down onto the bridge of his nose. He scrunches his forehead as his fingers run over a scar.

That’s not what catches his attention though.

“Glasses?” He murmurs, feeling the edges of the rounded lens. He blinks and turns his head quickly. His troubled eyes meet the soft, brown eyes of Zara. He tilts his head again in question. “I have glasses?” He asks softly and slowly. “Why didn’t I realize-”

“The doctor said that was a side effect. It’s nothing to worry about though.” Zara reassures him quickly and carefully. Her face has a soft smile and she lifts a hand to brush through Anthony’s hair.  “It’s completely normal for people in-”

“In my situation.” He finishes for her, lifting a corner of his mouth in a small smile. “So I’ve been told.” Zarah let’s out a soft sigh, the smile never leaving her face and her hand never leaving his hair. He leans his head into the comforting hand, though he yanks himself away when Tom enters the room. The taller man holding a hot pad and wears a smile on his face as well.

Anthony’s beginning to wonder why the smiles start to grate on his nerves.

“You don’t have to worry about that.” Tom’s voice cuts through his thoughts. Anthony blinks at him, but then realizes it’s about the hand still in his hair. “You might think it’ll make me upset.” Tom’s guessing his thoughts and it doesn’t bother Anthony as much as it should. “This interaction has been normal for you and Zara since you two first met. Trust me, it’s fine.” Tom places the pad on Anthony’s leg and the relief is almost instantaneous. Anthony hadn’t realized how much his leg ached until the beautiful heat surrounded the appendage. 

Anthony’s eyes run over the pad, but then he drags his eyes up and to Tom’s hair. He squints his eyes and recalls the conversation about the door they had when they arrived at the door.

“You didn’t dye your hair because of me, right?” It’s a serious question, but no one in the home can seem to contain their soft laughter at it.


	4. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh does anyone still read this? Anyway, if you do that's chill. Sorry for no updates. I've been writing a Marvel fic! If you like that sort of thing, you should totally check it out!

Waking up should be hard, it should be scary, but it isn’t. When Anthony wakes up the next morning, he feels calm. He blinks at the blurry ceiling and reaches to his right where he somehow knows his glasses are sitting. Sure enough, they’re on the nightstand and he feels a sense of triumph shoot through his body. He blinks as his vision comes to him and he sits up slowly.

 

He couldn’t remember the events of yesterday very well, but he did remember that this was his home. He lived with Tom and Zara Hart. He remembered there was news last night. Something big had happened but he couldn’t quite remember.

 

His forehead scrunched and he swung his legs over the bed. He ran his hand through his unruly hair and tried to get the cogs turning, but it didn’t work too well. He sighed and stood, being careful of his leg as he walked out of his room and into the kitchen.

 

His room was on the first floor. They moved him there after his accident, whatever that was. 

 

When he saw Zara and Tom embraced in the kitchen, a lightbulb went off in his head. 

 

Zara was expecting. She was pregnant. Anthony’s brain shot off and excitement filled his body. Those two would make wonderful parents and he couldn’t wait to see the child. A noise caught his attention and he turned to find it.

 

A cat. A cat with a very odd meow stood in the doorway. They had lovely orange fur and they were very chubby. Anthony blinked at it and crouched down, eyeing the cat warily. The cat meowed once more and bounded over to him. The cat rubbed it’s body against Anthony’s legs and butted against his hand.

 

“That’s Otto. He’s yours.” Tom supplies, smiling at Anthony from his embrace with Zara.

 

“Otto.” The cat meowed at his owner and a smile split Anthony’s face. “I found him in a dumpster not far from here. When I brought him home, you were concerned that I wouldn’t be able to take care of him. But I did.” His brain screeches to a halt. “He was so small. Time is missing, but how did I miss him growing.” His head hurts as he tries to think hard. “There was a woman. She wouldn’t let me keep him but I was able to see him sometimes. Why couldn’t I keep him?” Flashes of broken glass and blood break his vision and heart races.

 

“Anthony?” Zara calls his name softly and her voice is right in his ear. She holds him softly and his eyes water.

 

“Who is she?” The silence hurts but it must be something he has to figure out himself.

 

“She’s out of your life. You don’t need to worry about her.” Zara tells him and he pets Otto softly. The feel of the fur is grounding and his heart starts to calm.

 

“What will you name them?” Anthony asks, looking up at Zara with wide eyes. He’s begging softly for her to change the subject. He doesn’t know who the woman is that frightened him, but he wants to steer clear from that subject for a while.

 

Zara seems to understand the message and she smiles at him softly.

 

“I’m not sure. We haven’t thought about it. We did just find out last night.” She reminds him with a tussle of his hair. His nose scrunches at the feeling and he realizes it’s a normal reaction for him. “You only let me ruffle your hair.” She adds. Anthony nods and keeps that info at the back of his mind.

 

“Anthony, your sisters are coming over today. They wanted to see you.” Tom calls from the kitchen.

 

His sisters. Anthony wracks his brain for any information on his sisters but finds nothing. 

 

“You have info on them in your journal.” Anthony hates that his face gives away so much, but he should be grateful for it. Anthony rises from his crouched position, his hand leaving Otto’s fur and he makes his way to his bedroom once more.

 

The journal sits on the nightstand where his glasses resided through the night. It’s not remarkable in any way. It’s just a blue, spiral-bound book with tabs sticking out of the top. He holds the book in his hands and feels the edges of it. There are rounded edges that don’t cut into his fingers and they’re peeling away, the edges fraying. It’s something that comes with pressing your thumb into the corner and trying to make the layers of cardboard come apart.

 

His eyes stray from the corners to the tabs. He reads the labels quickly, not wanting to dwell on anything particular. His eyes find the tab labeled “Family” and he opens the book to that page.

 

There’s not much there and he hopes to rectify that. He finds his sisters are named Sarah and Abigail. They visit him often and they keep his parents far from him. His parents kicked him out of the house but there’s no reason why, and Anthony finds himself wanting to know.

 

“Anthony!” Anthony jolts and drops the book in his surprise. It’s just Tom calling him for breakfast. “You’re sister’s are here!” 

 

_ Oh. _

 

Anthony slowly picks up the book and carries it with him to the kitchen once more where he’s now greeted by Tom, Zara and what his sisters. He knows it’s them. Their faces charge familiarity into his mind and he smiles at them. They rush to him and gather him in a hug and he finds himself not caring much. 

 

He grips them back tightly and just rests in their hold. It’s a warmth he didn’t think he would feel for two people he didn’t really remember. But it’s nice.

 

It’s familiar.


End file.
